


burst into colours (and carousels)

by infrequency



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, yeehaw time with the boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-22 23:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23002165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infrequency/pseuds/infrequency
Summary: A new beginning is in front of you.In his mind’s eye, he can see a heartbroken Seokmin, studying him the way he is now, asking Jeonghan through a tight smile to give him space. Now, three years down the line, it’s Seokmin again who leans forward with his heart on his sleeve. But instead of pulling away, Jeonghan is the one who closes the gap.It’s up to you to decide if you want to take it.
Relationships: Lee Seokmin | DK/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 15
Kudos: 78
Collections: Seventeen Rare Pair Fest: Round 1





	burst into colours (and carousels)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [archaeocyaths](https://archiveofourown.org/users/archaeocyaths/gifts).
  * Inspired by [stop & stare](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22537342) by [archaeocyaths](https://archiveofourown.org/users/archaeocyaths/pseuds/archaeocyaths). 
  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [SVTRarePairFest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SVTRarePairFest) collection. 



> every word is heavy /  
> tell me what you wanna know /  
> i'm the shotgun lover and i want it all  
> [🎵](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ahcV_3oE6Q)

Gravel crunches underneath Jeonghan’s shoes as he slams the car door behind him shut. He hasn’t been to the fair in years — hasn't had a reason to recently, either — but a cryptic notification from his astrology app unkindly nudging him to live a little paired with the hazy, glittering lights against the skyline felt like reason enough to change his final destination.

Standing here now, he feels stupid hugging himself tight as he watches couples huddle into each other for warmth. Two for one, dressed poorly and all alone on a weekend at a carnival with no game plan except go try to have fun and don't eat too many corn dogs. It's silly, and he feels deeply pathetic, but trudges on.

The sun hangs low on the horizon, a shadow cast over the grounds by a looming Ferris wheel on the other side of the park. Despite the cheap decor, the nauseatingly tempting smell of fried foods, and the cloud of negativity hanging over his head, he manages to find beauty in it all.

Standing out against the sea of neons and glitter, Jeonghan's eyes rest on a tent with a worn-down sign that says "Fortune Teller is IN!" He can suspend disbelief for many things, but someone claiming to see his immediate future in his palm sounds...fake. Still, he drags on forward as he reminds himself to live in the moment.

The "moment" can't pass any quicker when he fumbles out his reason for patronizing the tent to the stone-faced woman behind the kiosk. She gives him a tight smile as she names her price, emphasizing cash only, and Jeonghan can feel his eye start to twitch.

"Hm. A skeptic," she says, waving him to the table behind the entryway. He hums, keeping his lips tight to not say anything snarky. He follows stiffly, settling into the seat directly across from her. 

He treats her to a thin smile that immediately drops when she rolls her eyes, meeting his expression with visible annoyance as she holds her hand out for his palm.

"I don't have all day, kid."

He places his hand on the center of the tiny table between them silently and shivers as she takes his palm into her own, fingers cold, firm and steady.

All the while, his own fingers itch for his phone in his pocket. He promised Jisoo that he'd call on his way home, and with how things have been lately, he's sure that the incoming rapidfire notifications is him trying to check in.

She makes a _tsk_ ing sound when Jeonghan makes to reach for it with his free hand, and he sags, not wanting to offend her further. He can wait a little while longer.

Minutes tick on like hours, and Jeonghan's diving into thoughts about better ways to use his spending budget when she finally opens her mouth.

“Your past is tricky, and you still have a long way to go in terms of healing.”

Tricky is an understatement for the shitstorm that is his life. He's just a month and some change into the most anti-climatic breakup in history, left with baggage, guilt, and apartment he now has to pay for on his own. In terms of healing, he's at least stopped crying about it.

Even having arrived at understanding prior to, it still feels like being eroded at, his soft underbelly being bared by a stranger. It’s been months since the breakup, but clearly, the pain is still burned in his skin.

His eyes focus on a spot on the rug under their feet and he imagines tracing the lines of the pattern the same way she skims across his hand. He has a vague understanding of a head and heart line, and the way her index finger skims the latter worries him.

“Good news is, the storm will pass.” she continues, startling him out of his thoughts. He snorts. That's not news.

“A new beginning is right in front of you. It’s up to you to decide if you want to take it.”

That, he's heard before. Jeonghan resists the urge to roll his eyes, because he's just heard it before a million times. So often that Jisoo has made "Better things are on the horizon, Hannie," his new farewell. Still, he bows as he leaves, smiling tightly as he responds to his missed calls. Jeonghan doesn't miss that the lights flick off as they part. What a hack.

She didn’t tell him anything new, nothing that his large, overwhelmingly invasive friend group hasn't told him before, and is reminding him now as he nods, holding the phone to his ear as he walks around the grounds aimlessly.

The last couple of months have been hellish, and he’s well aware that new, better things are on the horizon. He didn't need to spend money on something his friends tell him for free.

He exchanges parting words with Joshua, and he says what he always says, and he goes back to feeling like a sad single loser.

To everyone's credit, he hasn't been alone, not since his ex collected the last of his things. The secret blessing of having a large friend group of varying levels of closeness and love languages is the variance in stimulation. He appreciates the friends who offer comfortable silence as much as the ones who keep him distracted.

The revolving door of hugs and heart-to-hearts and movie nights where he falls asleep seconds after pressing play unfortunately dug the guilt in deeper about the one friend he pushed away. Too timid, too afraid to commit, too worried about ruining something good, and choosing to chase something he knew would be fleeting, he curses the Jeonghan of years ago for the open wound.

The ache in his chest is still raw, a gaping hole where his ex widened the gap that Seokmin left. 

Even with his heart on the mend, his mind is a mess, and the process of tidying it up has just begun.

Each passing day adds to the ache in his chest. The regret of how their friendship ended is still serrated at the edges, one that he wishes he knew how to put back together.

He’s considering the pros and cons of going home without grabbing greasy carnival food when a balloon pops somewhere behind him, and the sound startles him enough that he spins around. 

Time stops. The earth stops moving.

It’s an out-of-body moment, pushing through the crowd, running in slow motion, drawn to a familiar face like a lost moon seeking the sun to orbit. Jeonghan hears himself call out a name he hasn't said out loud in a long time, and skids to a halt.

When he reaches him, standing frozen with shock, Seokmin is as beautiful as he remembered him, better than what any social media post could show.

“It’s been so long,” Jeonghan pants out, the sudden burst of adrenaline draining itself out of his body. “I — what are you doing here? How are you?”

“Your hair’s different,” Seokmin blurts out, cotton-candy pink tinging the tips of his ears, looking very much like he wishes that wasn’t the first thing he’d said to him in almost 3 years.

Laughing, Jeonghan launches himself into a still stunned Seokmin, letting the memories flood his mind as he locks his arms around his waist.

“You’re just the same,” Jeonghan sighs. It feels familiar and safe and feels like returning home. The gentle pressure of Seokmin’s arms around him feels like something clicking back into place.

Something like the door he thought he had locked his emotions behind, forcing itself open.

Jeonghan drags himself away, hands planted on his shoulders and drinks him in.

It's no surprise that Seokmin is still as handsome as he remembers, but there's something new about how he carries himself, a camera sharpening focus. _Heartachingly beautiful,_ his brain supplies, letting his eyes linger on the familiar slope of his nose, the beauty mark on his cheek, the laugh lines, more creased-in and worn.

“You look good,” Jeonghan says, letting his eyes linger a moment too long on where his t-shirt clings to the width of his arm. When did _that_ happen?

“I— sorry, what’d you say?” Seokmin sounds far away, shaking his head like he’s trying to reset. “I’m just… a little shocked, I missed it, sorry.”

Jeonghan's face goes blank for a moment, composing himself before giving Seokmin a weak smile.

“I asked if you wanted to get a hot dog with me.”

A flicker of something unreadable on Seokmin's face plants the seed of doubt for a moment before his face breaks into a grin.

“Of course, hyung,” he says, cautious, like he's waiting for Jeonghan to correct him, and Jeonghan laughs, which makes Seokmin join in, dissipating the tension. “I’ve missed you. We need to catch up.”

They’re silent as they dig into their food, giving them a moment to collect their thoughts. Once the ice is broken, it's unsurprising to Jeonghan how easy they fall back into a familiar rhythm. He's missed this. A lot.

He hums appreciatively, listening to Seokmin talk about the movie he came from seeing, feeling a little fuzzy at the edges when he gestures so widely he almost hits a passerby. The elephant in the room only rears his head when he quietly tells him about the breakup, and how he's been hurting.

It feels like pulling teeth discussing the breakup with all things considered, but Seokmin listens, folding his hand around Jeonghan's palm, just for a moment before letting go.

“I’m a little worn down, but I feel lighter now,” Jeonghan adds, biting into the last of his hot dog. “What about you? What’s new?”

The overlap in their friend group has made it hard to _not_ know about events in each other's lives; he heard about the leading role in a play and the new job, but somehow the addition of a pet slipped past his radar. "Look at that little sweet face," Jeonghan coos in a baby voice, grabbing for Seokmin's wrist. He leans over the table to get a better look and Seokmin goes easily, leaning in closer while smiling tenderly at his baby talk.

They sit in comfortable silence, Seokmin picking at the drippings of his food, stealing glances at him out of the corner of his eye. Jeonghan crumples the foil in his hands, staring ahead in the distance just digesting the moment. He checks his messages, thinking about the days of feeling in-sync with a _someone_ , looking at Seokmin while considering it. Catching the heat of his gaze, Seokmin makes a face, scrunching his face in laughter. "Stop staring at me!" Jeonghan reaches over the table again, this time cooing at him, pinching his cheeks. "You're just so handsome, Seokminnie," he teases, sliding back into his seat. It takes him out of his own head for the moment. Jeonghan grins. "You said you've been here before, so... give me the tour?"

The conversation picks up again, turning to the different sights around them and loud protesting from Jeonghan when they pass a rollercoaster.

“You’re no fun!” Seokmin complains, but his answering grin is brighter than the neon signs they walk by that scream, _"Try your luck!”_

As they walk around the carnival, the words that the fortune teller spoke push themselves to the forefront of his mind. _A new beginning is in front of you_ , he recalls, and it resonates, watching Seokmin excitedly wave his arms and gesture as he tells him about an incident with Mingyu and a camping stove.

It doesn’t hurt, now, thinking about what things would be like if he had made a different choice. The rushing feeling that takes over when Seokmin reaches out for him as they push through a dense crowd feels a lot like…something he's been afraid to name.

Silently, he says a thank you to the creators of his astrology app, and as Seokmin turns back to him to make a remark about the dense patch, a begrudging thank you to the fortune teller.

Whatever brought him here also brought his friend back into his life, and maybe… restored some faith, if only for a few hours.

It takes several minutes for Jeonghan to realize that their hands are still intertwined. He doesn’t want to let go. Based on the nervous smiles he throws his way, neither does Seokmin.

After a couple of laps, they end up at the edge of the fairgrounds near the Ferris wheel. The lights lining the inner round of the wheel flash whites, blues, and golds as the vibrant colors around them melt into the darkness.

The sun has fully set, with just the lights from the street lamps and rides to light their way. Most of the kiosks and rides have shut down, and it's an unspoken understanding that this is their final stop of the night. But for Jeonghan, he doesn’t want to walk away without Seokmin at least knowing the truth.

The truth is that, as selfish as it is, Jeonghan often found himself wishing it was Seokmin he had chosen.

That he kept trying to replicate the feeling of Seokmin-and-Jeonghan with someone else, but it never felt quite right. That he may have cared for his ex, enough to chase a relationship and try to make it work, but he _loved_ Seokmin. Loves Seokmin.

First as a friend, then as something more, but he realized it too late. And that’s why he pulled away.

The line isn't as long as they thought it'd be, and the tickets Jeonghan had agreed to hold feel like a weight, heavy on his chest, laden with reminders of the past. Looking up at Seokmin, his resolve hardens as he settles on the words to say.

Unintentional or no, Seokmin squeezes his hand gently, and it gives him the strength he needs to take the leap.

“You know,” he says, heart pounding. Grounding breaths. A pause. “I always wished something could’ve happened between us.”

Jeonghan keeps his eyes fixed forward, focusing on the way Seokmin’s warm hand feels in his. He lets himself imagine a world where this isn’t the way he confesses, three years too late, counting on the distance to make the heart grow fonder.

Either way, it’s out in the open now, and Seokmin turns his gaze on him, mouth audibly falling open.

“I told you,” Strained out, his response feels like a punch to the gut. “I mean, I told you how I felt about you. You just chose him instead.”

The sensible, logical part of Jeonghan reminds him that he never gave Seokmin the time or space to be hurt. So he counts to ten, swallowing hard.

“I know,” he says it and means it sincerely, forcing himself to look him in the eye. His expression is hard to process, even harder with the pricking behind his eyes.

“I messed up. I hurt you, and it took me a while to realize that I hurt myself, too.”

“It hurt for a long time.” Seokmin replies, face softening. Their hands are still clasped, and he squeezes gently, corners of his mouth turning up. “But we’re here now, right?”

Jeonghan nods, stiff, pulling his eyes away. The dull ache that lives in the part of his heart where he keeps Seokmin comes back to life, only alleviated when he squeezes his hand again.

“Hey,” he says, quiet but firm. He’s smiling still. A good sign. It puts Jeonghan at ease. “We’re okay.”

The sudden change in conversation changes the air around them, and every second feels burdened with the unspoken question of what comes next. Jeonghan apologetically glances up at Seokmin before he pulls his hand free to give tickets to the ride operator.

He considers the benefits of reaching for him again, but Seokmin averts his gaze once they’ve been secured into the ride. Message received. His fingers feel numb anyway.

The ride kicks to life briefly to let the next set of guests on, and he startles, grabbing for Seokmin on instinct. He doesn’t register what’s happened until he feels strong hands on his shoulders, steadying him —keeping him safe like he’s always done.

He mumbles a quiet apology before scooting away. It’s a moment’s hesitation before the hands holding Jeonghan steady fall away. He tries not to miss their warmth.

A heavy gust of wind makes Jeonghan hug himself, pulling his hands into his sleeves to keep himself warm, watching the sparkling colored lights flicker out one by one as the fair continues to empty on the ground below them. Even as the ride lights go out, the hazy glow that settles over the fairgrounds from floodlights and the moon makes the view seem unreal.

That seems to be the theme of the night. Unreal. Blurred at the edges and liminal.

Jeonghan forces himself to conjure the memory of him, now three years ago, hurt and confused after Seokmin confessed his feelings. He remembers the calculated distance between them, and wondering if he had chose wrong. He sees him now, his profile illuminated by the ride lights and the moon as he stares out over the horizon.

And then Seokmin looks back at him. He wonders, not for the first time tonight, what he sees, and if he's seeing now worth reopening the door for.

_A new beginning is in front of you._

In his mind’s eye, he can see a heartbroken Seokmin, studying him the way he is now, asking Jeonghan through a tight smile to give him space.

Now, three years down the line, it’s Seokmin again who leans forward with his heart on his sleeve. But instead of pulling away, Jeonghan is the one who closes the gap.

_It’s up to you to decide if you want to take it._

There’s a moment of hesitation when Jeonghan’s lips meet Seokmin’s, their breaths mingling in the seconds before. Then, Seokmin’s hand brushes against Jeonghan's cheek, fitting his palm under his chin and tilts his face up.

"Hi."

It’s all the encouragement Jeonghan needs to press forward and trace his tongue across his lower lip. The satisfied sigh Seokmin makes, warm, wet, as beautiful as the moon hanging low in the sky makes him shiver, scooting in closer to take, _take_ as much as he can before the moment ends. Seokmin’s mouth is soft and eager against his, and he melts against him wanting more.

Moving away is difficult, but the decision is made for him when Seokmin slides back to his side of the car. Disappointed, Jeonghan pouts at the loss, trying to think about something that isn’t how hard he’s breathing or how long he’s wanted to do that, or how now that he's done it, he'd give anything to do it again and again. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Seokmin’s hand on his chest, and he lets himself feel the selfish elation of knowing how he feels is reciprocated.

The Ferris wheel halts, not quite at the top, but far enough that the voices of the remaining fair-goers can’t carry to where they are. Everyone and everything seems so far away, and it’s just Seokmin and Jeonghan and quiet uncertainty of what comes next.

“Do you mean it?” Seokmin asks, finally. The arm around his shoulder hovers like he’s still bracing himself for rejection. Jeonghan scoots in closer until their thighs are touching, and he can feel the warmth Seokmin radiates in his bones.

“I mean it,” Unsurprised to find that he means it, Jeonghan nods, leaning into his body. “To be honest, I…, I thought I had missed my chance with you.”

Jeonghan considers the versions of Seokmin that he’s seen glimpses of over the years: Seokmin as a leading man, standing proudly on stage basking in the love that he so deserves. Seokmin online, surrounded by friends who love him, smiling brighter than any sun. Seokmin back then, willing to take any part of Jeonghan that he would give until it hurt too much. Seokmin now, looking at Jeonghan like he holds the stars, with more awe and love than any person has ever held.

“I didn’t think I would ever see you again.” Jeonghan’s voice cracks a little, awestruck. “But then I turned around and there you were.”

Seokmin smiles the kind of smile that makes his nose scrunch and his eyes crinkle, pressing his forehead to Jeonghan’s.

“There you were,” he breathes, bringing their lips together again. “Right in front of me.”

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was completed in mid-March. and again in mid-April. and again in late April. and again in...well, you get it. endless thanks to [isabel](http://ao3.org/users/archaeocyaths), my long-suffering beta reader and friend. thank you for your beautiful words, always, and humoring every second of my self-inflicted agony. without you this fic couldn't have blossomed the way it did.


End file.
